Pick Ourselves Undone
by ineedtoleavethissite
Summary: When Marley graduated and moved to the big city, this was the last thing she expected to find there. The very last thing.


**This story follows canon up until 4x13, and takes place some years after that episode. **

**Warning – it features a rather rough (more dark-themed than anything, really) but consensual scene later on, so if that is in any way a trigger for you, please tread lightly.**

**I do not own Glee or the lyrics to any Bastille songs.**

* * *

It happened in stages.

First, Marley somehow neglected to hand in some extra dorm applications on time – forms that she wasn't even aware existed – and that's how she found herself here, stood outside Juliard with her bags packed and ready to learn, with nowhere to stay.

Honestly, she thought, she hasn't even properly taken her first step into adult life, and she's already mucked everything up. These application-type things should have come with clearer instructions, at least, because she just could not fathom where she went wrong.

Second, after a solid hour of brainstorming, she still hadn't come up with any solutions, and it wasn't like she could just stay wherever – Marley never liked thinking about their finances – and that was when she decided to call Mr Schue. It was late already, and Marley wanted anything else than to spend the little money she had on a hotel room to survive the night.

She fought real hard not to cry in frustration, hearing her own sad tale as she told it over to her old teacher, who just told her to hold on as he went to find Finn in the staff room.

Then, she could hear Finn's voice over the line saying that he has an idea, and then he was talking to someone else completely, and Mr Schue told her that they had Rachel on the end of another line.

Lastly, Finn took the phone and explained that he thought Marley could live with Rachel and Kurt for a while, until Rachel reminded him that Blaine was moving in and they truly had no room to spare.

Marley heart sank, until Finn said, "But that's okay, Rachel had another idea. It's a long shot, because no one has heard from her in years, but apparently she still lives in the loft Rachel and Kurt had, so there's bound to be space for you, and it's not that far away to travel to school for you every day."

And that was how she found herself taking a train to Bushwick, a paper held in her hand with Santana Lopez's address written on it in a messy scrawl.

–

It wasn't the best neighbourhood Marley has ever seen, but she was just so happy that her troubles might have been coming to an end – and after all, beggars can't be choosers, can they?

Besides, if she could manage to get through the neighbourhood with all her luggage at night without attracting any bad attention, it couldn't be the worst in the world.

By the time she got up to the third floor, her arms were aching from hauling her bags and she was slightly out of breath. She looked at the sliding door and smirked to herself a bit, proud for at least having gotten _something_ right. It was nice, too – the idea of maybe getting to stay in a true hipster-like loft in a semi-dangerous part of town had a strange appeal to straight-laced, small-town Marley. But she didn't want to get too excited, not yet, when her earlier disappointment was still so fresh in her mind.

Knocking, Marley hoped Santana was home, even, and for a second panicked that she would just have had to wait here in vain until Santana came back, maybe even only in the morning. Or worse, that Santana didn't even live here anymore, and that she and Rachel had fallen so out of touch that Marley was currently on nothing more than another goose chase.

But after knocking again – a bit louder this time due to this slight panic – Marley heard some heavy stomping from the other side of the door, along with some muffled shouts that sounded something like, "God, fucking hold on, will you?" and Marley gulped.

When Santana opened the door, hair mussed up and make-up smudged, wearing nothing but a tank top and panties, Marley smiled weakly, somewhat surprised by how _different_ her old mentor was, in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Santana narrowed her eyes as she looked at Marley, and when her eyes flitted down to Marley's bags, her eyebrows sprang up in surprise.

Things didn't look to good for Marley in that moment.

"Marley, right?" Santana asked, and Marley just nodded.

Santana sighed and crossed her arms, and Marley knew it was time to speak up.

"Uh, Rachel said you live here, and there might be some space to crash, for a while?" Marley bit her lip. "I... I got, uhm... Things didn't work out for me at my college dorms, and I'm kind of in a pinch right now, and well. Uhm."

Santana ran her hand through her hair and sneaked a quick look back in the loft. "Look, no offense, but now is not the best time."

"You won't even know I'm here," Marley quickly said, serious and desperate.

Santana smirked. "Your funeral."

And then Marley was being let in the place, heart beating erratically and exhaling in relief. It was pretty large, though it possibly only seemed that way because there was nothing... _homey_ in the place, making it more empty than spacious.

"Couch is free, check for some blankets in that cupboard over there," Santana said, and pointed to a large cupboard against the far wall.

"Yeah," Marley said, relieved. She moved her things over to what appeared to be the living room – mostly just a haggard looking couch in the corner put opposite the television. "Thanks."

Santana looked at her for a moment. Marley wondered how she came across, standing there after a rocky start in the greatest city in the world, though still optimistic about starting some new chapter in her life, young and bright-eyed and all those apt little stereotypes that fits idealistic Ohio girls such as herself.

Not even trying to hide her sarcasm, Santana told Marley, "Welcome to the real world," before rolling her eyes and disappearing behind some curtain on the other end of the loft.

Marley walked over to the cupboard, wanting nothing more than just to get some bedding, pass out on the couch and try figuring this mess out tomorrow.

But with a blanket finally held in her hands, she heard a sound from the other side of the loft that was... Well, no, Marley thought, shaking her head and getting settled on the couch, it couldn't be _that_.

Getting comfortable, Marley stared up at the ceiling, and was just getting ready to shut her mind off from the thoughts that were buzzing in her brain, when she heard it again.

A high pitched voice said, "Yeah, yeah," and well, that wasn't Santana at all, now was it?

And oh. Oh, dear.

Now Santana's frazzled appearance and comments of it being a bad time made much more sense. And now there was moaning that was escalating, and Marley pinched herself to make sure this was really happening.

When she realized it was, she quickly dug into her bag to pull out her headphones and quickly propped them in her ears to mute out the sound.

It was completely dark around her, and focusing on the soft tune streaming into her ears, Marley could almost pretend that that didn't just happen.

Okay, she told herself, that was fine, because this was Santana's place, and she was the one intruding, and so she just needed to deal, was all.

Marley closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing, but eventually all the things littering her brain just sent her to surrender to sleep from exhaustion instead.

She was relieved either way.

–

Marley was awoken by something tugging at her foot, and opened her eyes to find Santana seated at the end of the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand, and moving Marley's toes around with the other.

"Sorry, Sleeping Beauty," Santana husked, "just wanted to let you know I need to leave for work soon, so you wouldn't be confused when you woke up."

Marley sat up and reached for her phone to check the time. She forgot to set her alarm and now it's already past two in the afternoon. Damn, she was far more tired from her expedition yesterday than she expected. Hearing the television on, Marley looked around confused, realizing that Santana must have been up for a while, and God, she didn't even know she slept so deeply.

"Anyway, I was about to make some lunch," Santana said, getting up and walking to the kitchen. "Want some?"

The rumbling in her stomach was enough answer for Marley, and so she followed Santana and sat on a stool as she watched Santana operate in the kitchen, after Santana indifferently told Marley that she could just relax, for today.

Santana walked about the room making what looked like some grilled cheese sandwiches, and made no effort to acknowledge Marley's existence, who was left twiddling her thumbs while waiting for Santana to finish lunch. When she did, Santana ungracefully plonked herself down across from Marley and slid a plate over to her, digging into her own without preamble.

Marley took about two bites before she couldn't stand the silence anymore, and then, in an attempt to make some conversation, she asked, "Does your girlfriend work early? Is that why she left already?"

Santana chuckled. "I don't have a girlfriend."

But... Oh, right, Marley thought. She still felt so naïve sometimes, even though she knew that she was anything but, now, on that front.

"Cool," Marley said, just to let Santana know that, well, you know, she was cool with whatever.

"Sure," Santana chuckled, before the blank look returned to her face and there was silence once more.

So, that failed spectacularly, Marley thought. Before she knew it, they were done eating and Santana got dressed and was making to leave.

Marley took her chance right before Santana escaped, and said, "Thank you, Santana."

Santana just kind of stopped and looked confused, and Marley wondered why the concept of gratitude suddenly seemed so foreign to her.

Deciding not to think to much of it, Marley just elaborated, "For letting me kip here. It means a lot."

"Whatever," Santana said noncommittally, grabbing a bag and heading for the door. "Just don't get too comfortable."

–

Marley ended up staying there for a week, and in that week, she figured out what it was that she found different about Santana since she saw her two and a half years ago.

Marley had always heard what a bitch Santana was, especially in that week when all the new glee kids were trading stories about the old, but found all the rumours to be quite untrue when she discovered that Santana was just very... _colourful_. There seemed to be this tenderness barely hidden underneath the snarky exterior, and Marley had found it fascinating, getting to know Santana, even if it was only for a short time.

But that tenderness has disappeared now, and on the whole Santana came off harsher, somehow. The biting, acidic demeanour that was always used in jest now had absolutely no humour to it, and all Santana's softness was gone. So was the drive and ambition that shone out of her at every turn, the disposition that actually inspired Marley to be more confident and go for what she wants, even if Santana did not realize that at the time.

It was maybe too early to tell, but there was also a sense of recklessness about Santana. Every night since Marley got here, there has been a different girl sharing Santana's bed. Marley thinks everyone should do what they want, sleeping around or not, but she just maybe wrongly assumed Santana to be a one-woman type of girl, from the snippets she saw when of Santana when she was still dating Brittany.

(And even after, the longing stare on her face Marley caught across the choir room, every single time Santana made appearances in Lima during Marley's sophomore year.)

Marley did not know Santana well, but even she could see that Santana was even more closed of and guarded than she was back when she barged in on diva week and tried to win Brittany back, and failed.

Somehow, to Marley, it looked like Santana just stopped caring.

Marley wondered what happened to her.

–

After two weeks and multiple phone calls, Marley still couldn't sort out her living arrangements and was getting nervous, because she started classes the following week and did not have a permanent place to stay, nor a job to help her live.

Santana has taken it all in her stride though, and Marley felt immensely grateful that she wasn't spending her time figuring things out on the streets as well.

When Santana came home later that evening, for a chance not bringing any straggler in with her, Marley was surprised when, instead of ignoring her and going straight to sleep, Santana approached her where she was sat on the couch, using Santana's laptop to look at housing options.

"So, you need to get off this couch," Santana started, and Marley's heart sank. Santana smirked at the look on Marley's face and rolled her eyes, then added, "Get off this couch and then find a corner to vegetate in, 'cause I decided you can stay."

"Stay?"

"Getting pretty tired of you moping around my crib, Rose," Santana said, carrying Marley's bags over to the far left corner of the loft, on the opposite side of where Santana's own room was. "At least if you have your own room, I won't have to see that shit all the time."

Marley stood up and just stared as Santana started moving some cupboards and trinkets away to open up a space. When Santana turned around and put her hands on her hips, as if she was waiting for Marley to do something, Marley blinked and stuttered out a reply.

"I can stay?" Marley asked.

"If you want to, yeah," Santana affirmed. "But you need to get a job and get it soon, since I'm not a charity foundation and you shower way too fucking long, and I'm not picking up that bill myself."

"Santana," Marley said, because she didn't know how to articulate how relieved she felt in that moment.

Instead of crying like she wanted to, she merely strode over to where Santana stood and pulled her into a hug, startled by how small Santana's thin frame felt in her arms. Santana stiffened against her and Marley let go, not wanting to grate on Santana's aversion to affection any more now that Santana has afforded her this great favour.

Before she let go, though, she whispered, "Thank you so much," in Santana's ear, and after, Santana just frowned and nodded, then retreated to her room.

Santana just said, "House rule number one: Don't ever do that again," before disappearing behind the curtain, but even that couldn't impair Marley's spirits.

–

It took Marley a whole month more to work up the courage to ask Santana what she was doing for a living.

It happened after Marley finally became a waitress at a little diner close to their place, and when she started leaving the place more often to go to work, often times giving Santana a heads up before she did. This made her wonder where it was that Santana went, moving in and out of the apartment at such irregular intervals that Marley could never quite guess what it was she did.

Santana always seemed bent on keeping their interactions to a minimum, and it was something Marley really detested, since she always imagined herself to become best friends with her roommate in college, and though she knew her situation was a bit different, this dream still remained the same.

She has made some friends at school, who share the same interests and passions as her and who she saw on occasion, but there was some part of her that still felt lonely. A feeling that was only elevated by the fact that her home was so barren and the silences so overwhelming that sometimes, she herself rarely believed that there were actually two people living there.

So when the opportunity came, one Sunday afternoon when she came home to find Santana lounging in front of the television, she sat down next to her and waited for Santana's programme to finish before making a remark about work really tiring her out today.

She tried not to become frustrated when Santana merely shrugged in reply, and then decided to force the issue regardless, sick of not having anyone to talk to at home.

"You know the feeling, right?" Marley said, faking joviality despite her annoyance. The she just bit the bullet. "What is it that you do, anyway?" she asked casually. "You haven't mentioned it."

Santana turned to her slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Like, your job. Or school still, I don't know. What do you do?"

"Why do you care?" Santana huffed.

Marley fidgeted, not sure how to phrase it. "I just thought we should get to know each other, sometime," she said. "The usual. Family, friends, careers. You know, it's one of those important things."

"Important things? What does it matter?" Santana bit out, then, and Marley was taken aback by the harshness of her tone. "What does anything matter? You wanna know what I do, Marley? I fucking _survive_. That's all you need to know."

After Santana stormed out, Marley went to her room and lay on her bed, then mulled over Santana's words. There was a part of her that was really worried about what it all meant. She knew, judging by her tone and Santana's use of _survive_ – a bitter curse rather than a sorrowful admission of regret – that Santana couldn't be caught up in something extreme like prostitution or drugs.

Instead, she was curious as to Santana's old dreams, those of singing and performing that she was sure she heard Santana mention back in high school.

She wondered how _that_ girl and the one she knew now were linked, and why they were so very different.

–

Marley hadn't tried any more prying questions after that.

She thought it best to try and chip away at Santana's icy exterior with small nicks, and brought up neutral topics instead, which only gave her one of two options for conversation – television, and what Santana thought of the specials at their local grocer.

Suffice to say, Marley hadn't made much progress. Occasionally, she received a grunt or a nod, but most times Santana would just look at her with a blank expression, and then Marley knew it was one of those day when she wouldn't get much out of her roommate.

–

Marley came home from Juliard one afternoon to find the message light on their voicemail blinking.

Having recently given her mother their home number due to her cellphone being difficult, Marley pressed the button excitedly, almost bouncing in anticipation of hearing her news from home.

But it wasn't her own parent's voice she heard, but rather what must have been Santana's dad's voice that filtered through the speakers.

"Hey, uhm, honey. We were just calling to hear if, well– We hope things are okay with you, at least. We love you, and miss you. And..." the voice breathed out heavily. "Mija, we hope that soon you can find a way to–"

Then the message was cut off, and Marley just stood there for a while, wondering how she was going to tell Santana that there was a message for her without seeming too invasive. She decided on deleting the message, since, judging by the content, it seemed Santana wasn't paying much attention to them anyway.

And because of what she just heard, Marley wanted to get to the bottom of what it was that was plaguing Santana even more. Not because she like fixing things that was broken, or because she had some saviour complex, but because of one simple thing.

Whatever the cost, Marley Rose knew that she wanted to become Santana Lopez's friend.

–

Marley was stressing her ass off with this project.

She didn't quite understand the material to begin with – the more technical side of producing tracks was never her forte – and so writing five pages on it wasn't doing her any further favours. She now had to play catch-up _and_ then try to sound articulate in explaining it herself, and there was only about thirteen hours left until deadline, if she didn't pass out during this attempted all-nighter.

And so when the front door bursted open, Marley sighed, because tonight was really not one where she needed distractions. She boycotted the library in favour of the comfort of her house, precisely because Santana usually never came home on a Wednesday night.

Marley heard a giggle and then looked up to find some girl, topless already, attached to Santana's lips as they stumbled over toward Santana's room, taking no notice of her sat on the couch.

It would have been strange if Marley wasn't so accustomed to the sight by now, and she just sighed as she pulled her new best friend – her loyal and trusty music player – closer to drown out the noise. Marley didn't know why the girls Santana brought home had to be so terribly _loud_, but God, some nights Marley have been literally woken up by the sounds that came from the other end of the apartment.

Santana hasn't acknowledged any of this, ever, and the one time Marley dared mention how tired she was because of _external_ factors, she came home later to find some earplugs on her bed with a sarcastic note pinned to it that simply read, _Don't be jealous_.

While Marley didn't have the heart to tell Santana that her hedonistic lifestyle wasn't something that Marley would ever be able to envy, she did take a few moments to ponder her own romantic life.

She still spoke to Jake, sometimes, and was happy that they could still remain friends. She loved Jake with all her heart, and he was her first everything, but she knew that it was a folly staying with a boy when they were moving to the opposite ends of the country straight out of high school.

She missed him, though, but because they split up before the summer it had been six months since she saw him last, and she finally felt that her heart had mended.

There was a nice lad at school, Ben, who was definitely interested, but Marley just wasn't as intrigued by him as he was in turn. And then there was also a real sleaze of a guy, James, that she just didn't give the time of day, when he approached her, and recently he had luckily started to back off.

Marley wasn't that worried, anyway, because the thought of having a boyfriend was not something that monopolized her time, and being alone wasn't something that she actively stressed about.

Instead of chasing a relationship status, she has always been someone who was more interested in making a connection.

She knew she would know it when she felt it.

–

The pressure of university had only gotten worse, and Marley knew it was bad when, in late October, Santana broke her silence and for the very first time, talked to Marley without Marley initiation the conversation.

"Oh my fucking God," Santana said from her place in front of the television. "Can you stop being so fucking tense? I can feel it all the way from over here and you're seriously intruding on my _Toddlers and Tiaras_ time."

Marley only then realized that Santana was addressing her and not just vocally reacting to something on screen, and she looked up from her books on the kitchen table to gape at Santana.

"What?" Santana asked, crossing her arms.

"I'm working," Marley said, choosing not to make too much of a fuss of Santana actually speaking to her out of her own volition. "Midterms. I can't help it."

Santana huffed and went back to her show, and Marley returned her focus to her textbook. When Santana spoke again, she was standing right beside Marley, and Marley almost fell of her chair in surprise.

Wow, she really was buried deep in her books.

"Okay," Santana said, grabbing Marley's folders and closing them, "you're ruining the whole fucking atmosphere in here. You need to let loose and just fucking _relax_. Get dressed."

Then Santana pulled Marley off her chair and pushed her toward her room before disappearing into her own.

Marley stood outside Santana's curtain, perplexed. "Uh, Santana?" she asked. "What's happening?"

"We're going out," came Santana's voice from the other side. "You're gonna live a little and then let me have my peace."

"But," Marley objected, "my midterms–"

"Clear your head and start tomorrow," Santana said simply, and before Marley knew it, she found herself in some dingy little club watching as Santana ordered them drinks at the bar.

Marley looked around at everybody grinding on the dance floor, while she tried to ignore the pounding of the music in her ears, which only reminded her of her essay on contemporary percussion and thus did nothing to relieve her stress.

She felt knuckles tap at her temple and looked to her side to see Santana push a drink in her direction. "Turn it off," Santana said, giving her head one last little knock.

Santana started mingling with people and they met some very interesting and also very creepy fellows as they worked the room together. Marley couldn't help but admit, after an hour and a couple of drinks, that her spirits have lifted and her head felt much, much lighter.

Later, when she sat by the bar, pleasantly dizzy as several guys rotated around the counter and bought her drinks, she watched as Santana made her way into the crowd, taking her place of the dance floor.

She saw it, then, what it was that made people flock to Santana, what made girls filter in and out of their apartment like flies. Marley couldn't put her finger on it – whether it was the way Santana moved or her natural sex appeal or the lights bouncing on and off her face in flashes – but suddenly all attention was on Santana, girls and boys alike gravitating toward her on instinct.

Even bent and broken, Santana was dynamic in a way that entranced Marley far beyond her own understanding.

And right now, Marley could feel it, that energy, and found that she, too, couldn't take her eyes off the sight.

It was magnetic.

–

When Marley woke up the next morning due to a mild hangover and a severe case of cotton mouth, she was relieved to realize that, for once, her waking thoughts of midterms wasn't the worst thing pressing on her mind.

–

It was perhaps this light bit of bonding with Santana that drove Marley to do it, but either way, as soon as it happened, she knew it was a mistake.

She had just been on the phone with Jake, and Santana sent her a questioning glare at the tone of her voice, and so she told Santana her and Jake's tale, to which she just received another shrug in reply.

And that's when she did it, in an attempt to strike up more of a conversation, one on mutual ground, and brought up the topic of Brittany.

She had heard through the grapevine that Brittany was touring with a company now and doing very well for herself, and from what Marley has been witnessing these past few months, it was obvious where that left Santana and Brittany. Last she heard of the couple, Brittany had broken up with Sam at the end of senior year and was headed for New York straight after that.

For some reason, Marley foolishly believed that she and Santana could talk about that, and she so she concluded her saga on Jake with, "I mean, I'm sure you know what it's like, with Brittany and all." She tried her best to be casual. "Whatever happened with you two, anyway?"

Santana has always been an exceptionally graceful creature, and so it was quite a sight to see when all the confidence instantly left her body and she froze up in a way Marley's never seen her do before.

The look Marley received was so hostile that she almost physically shrunk away from it, and then Santana said coldly, "Don't ever use that name in this house again."

She stormed off and Marley was left reeling, and Santana didn't speak to her for weeks after that.

–

By the time Santana slowly warmed up to her again, Marley was enjoying the start of her winter break.

She was glad for this change, as she would be spending more time at home now than ever. She was just debating getting a second job as an excuse to avoid Santana instead of school when the devil herself showed up with a half-full pizza box and just said, "Take some if you want," and then escaped to her room.

It was a white flag if Marley's ever seen one – with a bit more cheese on top – and her heart fluttered at the sight of it.

–

For some reason, Marley agreed to go on a date with Ben.

She was terribly bored through the whole evening, wondering if they could ever get their friendship back if she politely shot him down at the end of the night, and then decided to drink a bit more than she should have to make that part somewhat easier to get through.

So, when it got to the end of the date, Marley found herself back at his, heavily making out on the couch, thinking she could at least get something out of this. And because it has been a very – _very_ – long time, she allowed him to pull of her shirt and then her pants, and helped him shrug out of his jeans and polo top.

(Yes, Marley thought, a polo top, because his clothes was just one more indication of just how bland his personality was.)

At least, he wasn't as boring in bed, and managed to make Marley feel really good, in the end. After, she felt like some heavy weight on her back has lifted off her, and then she remembered that she was only human, after all.

Luckily, she had until the following term until she saw him again, and by then she was sure she could play it all off, with the meagre stage acting class she's dabbled in at school.

She left when he was asleep, poor guy trying to cuddle up to her and keep her close.

Maybe she was a little more like Santana than she would like to admit.

–

"You smell of sex," Santana told her, when she came home. "Oh, good God," Santana smirked then, upon taking a closer look. "Didn't know you had it in you. If I had known earlier, we could have had _much_ more fun together."

Santana winked and switched her focus back to the television, and even though she was joking, Marley knew that her own cheeks were on fire. She almost went back to Ben's house, then, to relieve this new tension building inside her, and felt that weight on her shoulders return in an instant.

Instead, she just opted for a very cold shower instead, climbing straight into bed after to avoid running into her roommate.

–

There was this feeling growing in Marley, she knew.

It was easy to ignore, at first, but with Santana now actually actively acknowledging her existence, the task has become steadily more difficult over time.

It wouldn't do her any good, either, Marley knew that, too.

If only she could do something about it, with that knowledge, but alas.

–

The feeling only escalated when one evening, Marley came home from the diner and found herself face to face with a very explicit image on her living room couch.

It was surprising that something like this hasn't happened earlier, but Marley isn't really about to lament the absence of it when she immediately turned away and closed the door behind her, heart beating out of her chest.

It's not something she ever wanted to see, in any situation really, Santana naked and laid out on her couch while some random head was working between her legs.

But it wasn't Santana's body or the sight of the act itself that _really_ stuck with Marley, when she went to the coffee shop across the road to wait it out. It was the brief glimpse of Santana's eyes, staring up at the ceiling, completely _empty_, that haunted Marley long after she saw the girl leave and trekked up the stairs back to their apartment.

And then she remembered that this new Santana was one that was mysterious and crushed and completely weighed down by something, and that Marley was still determined to figure it all out.

–

That opportunity came later, on a Friday night when, sporting her sweatpants and a tank top, Marley realized that Santana was spending the night in, and immediately forgot all her own plans to meet up with some friends for drinks.

They ended up marathoning some Real Housewives, ordering pizza and drinking lots of wine, and it was nice, this. Santana dug up an old stack of cards, somewhere, too, and then engaged Marley in a game of kings, and Marley felt that maybe, her high-school idea of becoming close to her roommate could still come true, if things continued on this path.

Marley was becoming more sloppy with her movements, and losing violently due to her inability to keep up with the numbers, but honestly has not had this much fun in a very long time.

Santana has also not been this friendly in a very long time – ever – and Marley would make it a point to get her drunk more often if this is what happened as a result.

"Alright," Santana said, winning yet another round. "This is boring, you're not even trying!" She chuckled, briefly, and then collected all the cards and shuffled them. "Let's up the stakes and do some strip poker."

Marley's mouth went dry. She just nodded and ignored the buzzing in her ears when she felt Santana scoot closer. She kept her eyes on the cards as Santana dealt their hands, but looked up, confused, when Santana stopped and just threw the rest of the stack between them, midway through.

And when she did that, she saw Santana's face very close to her own, smiling in a very strange way that Marley hasn't seen her do before.

"Or," Santana drawled, "we could skip the charades and just get on with it, what do you say?"

Marley pretended to be confused, frowning to give herself some time to gain composure, but Santana just kept on smiling, and somehow Marley knew she was in trouble.

"It's okay," Santana whispered, and Marley would be surprised at her gentle voice if not for the predatory undertones she could make out underneath Santana's faux sweetness. "I've seen the way you look at me, Rosey, and you don't have to–"

Marley was at the end of her rope, and so she pushed herself forward and gave Santana what she wanted – what Marley wanted, too.

Santana was a good kisser. Well, an amazing kisser – possibly the best Marley has ever had. Marley felt even drunker than she was already just with the taste of Santana's mouth, with the feel of Santana's tongue that swiveled around her own, with the gentle but firm push of Santana's lips against hers, coupled together with the strong but soft grip Santana held on her cheek.

And well, Marley thought, she _was_ all about connections, and finally she was connecting with Santana on a level she could only dream about these past couple of weeks.

In a matter of moments, Santana was undressing her and she feigned confidence while trying to do the same in return. It was surprising when Santana, despite the animalistic way she has been tugging at Marley's clothes, smiled gently at her when Marley struggled with her bra clasp, and Marley smiled back before kissing her again, happy for the moment or reprieve.

But then Santana changed again and pushed Marley down on the rug-covered floor, and Marley gasped when her back hit it and felt Santana cover her body with her own. Santana sucked on her neck for a while before going down and doing something miraculous to Marley's breasts with her mouth, and it was not long before Marley was wrapping her thighs around Santana's waist and pushing her hips up, desperate.

It seemed to be what Santana was looking for, and Marley's eyes closed and she groaned as she felt Santana's fingers inside her, suddenly, fully, and barely caught her breath before Santana started moving in the most delicious way imaginable.

Marley understood, now, why all those girls have been so loud.

She reveled in the feeling of being this close to Santana. It was what she wanted, from the start, to feel like she was linked with Santana, in a way, and so, closing her eyes, she just took a moment to felt what it was like, completely wrapped in and out and around Santana.

While Santana moved in her, she ran her hands everywhere, trying to get used to the softness of Santana's skin. She kissed Santana's neck, and lifted Santana's head up from where it was placed against her shoulder, and kissed Santana deeply. Santana obliged for a few seconds, with more tongue than lips, and Marley felt like she was floating, then Santana pulled back and bent down to work at Marley's nipples again.

Marley watched her for a few movements, taking in the curve of her body and how the light of the television reflected off her skin as she twisted and turned in a way that made Marley feel like she's going to explode. Santana really was beautiful, in a way that Marley could never quite grasp.

She tangled her hand in Santana's hair and pulled her back up to kiss her again, stroking her fingers gently over Santana's cheeks, so unlike the fast pace Santana was keeping up within her. She pulled back and pushed some of the hair from Santana's forehead, and saw that Santana was keeping her gaze trained firmly on her chest, and Marley frowned.

She just wished Santana would look at her, at least.

Instead, she settled for leaning up and kissing Santana again, moaning into her mouth as she felt Santana curl her fingers, hitting Marley – oh, _there_. This time, Marley pulled back to take in a deep, steadying breath, and Santana buried her head in her neck again.

Regaining her bearings, Marley twisted her head and sought out Santana's lips once more, trying not to be disappointed when Santana pecked her quickly before twisting her head away, which made Marley be more forceful in pulling Santana back to actually see her face while this was happening.

Santana wasn't having any of it, though. Marley felt her pull out, and in seconds, Santana had pushed her around to lie on her stomach, lifted her hips up a bit, and entered her again, from behind. Santana placed her other hand against Marley's upper back, right underneath her neck, pushing her more firmly onto the ground, and Marley's mouth fell open when she felt Santana start pounding into her savagely, using her hips along with her fingers for extra leverage.

It felt so, _so_ good, but this wasn't what Marley wanted at all. She realized, in that moment, that Santana really was _fucking_ her, not caring about anything else than the race they were in, while the only thing Marley sought was, well, to connect.

"Santana," she gasped out, "just, wait."

She reached back and put her hand on Santana's hip, simply holding on to it at first, then trying to halt its movement.

"Stop, Santana," she breathed out, but Santana wasn't letting up, so she repeated, harsher, "_stop_."

She felt Santana still then, heard her breathing heavily, and could almost picture the confused look on Santana's face. She pushed Santana away and turned onto her back, pushing up on her elbows and looking at Santana, who sat on her knees, sweaty and beautiful and frowning at Marley.

"What's your problem?" Santana asked, and Marley could not believe the callous tone that was present in her voice after how physically close they had just been. "You're practically throwing yourself at me," Santana elaborated, "and now you want me to stop?"

"My problem is," Marley said, feeling cold all over, suddenly, then spat out, "that I wanted to feel close to you, and that I'm not just another one of the whores you bring around here to fuck."

Santana leveled her with a wicked smirk. "Aren't you?"

And then Marley slapped her. Santana had the audacity to not even look affected by it at all, and instead, smiled even wider. Marley saw that Santana _reveled_ in the action, actually, and Marley tried to keep from crying as she blindly reached for her clothes.

"You're a fucking robot, Santana," Marley said, frustrated, trying to keep her voice level. She put on a shirt and stood up, grabbing her underwear. "What the hell happened to you?" Marley asked, and Santana just shrugged, still smiling.

Marley pulled on her panties and grabbed her pants and bra, ready to make her exit. It was probably Santana's smug grin, sitting there satisfied while Marley stood there – humiliated, feeling as if everything around her was crumbling into dust – that made her say it.

"No wonder Brittany left you, I wouldn't have stayed around either."

But she regretted it immediately when the smile disappeared off Santana's face, and her eyes became ice.

Marley left the room before she could face the fallout.

–

When Marley woke up the next morning, she felt empty. She stared up at the ceiling, still wearing the shirt she was in last night, and she sighed.

It was early yet, and Marley felt hungry, so she hoped she could steal into the kitchen to grab something to bite on, and come back to her room to avoid Santana for the rest of the day. Or, possibly, forever.

But when she silently tip-toed out of her room, she saw Santana already sitting in the living room, with two bags in front of her, apparently waiting for Marley. Marley walked closer, and Santana didn't even look at her.

Addressing the far wall, Santana said, in a stony voice, "You need to pack and leave."

"Excuse me?" Marley asked softly.

"I said," Santana turned to look at her, "you need to get out of my house."

Marley scoffed, then walked into the kitchen, unperturbed. She grabbed a slice of bread and threw some ham on it, not even caring about butter, just wanting to get something in her stomach to keep herself from throttling Santana when she returned to the living room.

When she was done, she found Santana still seated on the couch, staring into nothingness.

"When I get back tonight I expect you to be gone," Santana said.

Marley wanted to scream at her, then, but caught the look on Santana's face and sighed internally. She knew this game Santana was playing, and suddenly remembered that this new Santana was still an enigma, one that was badly bent and out of shape. One that was probably so used to people wigging out on her that she started doing the work for them, by now.

Marley wanted to stay mad, she really did, but she couldn't, not when so harshly faced with Santana's demons, not when she's been witnessing Santana's lifelessness for months on end, powerless.

Not when she knows what she needs to do to get some power, now.

"No," Marley said, crouching down in front of Santana, and was delighted to see how startled Santana was by the action, when Marley knew she was expecting a shouting match instead, expecting to be, once again, written off. Marley tenderly put her hand on Santana's thigh, apologizing for what she has said the previous night when she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not giving up on you."

Then she simply stood up and retreated to her bed, only imagining what kind of emotional roller-coaster she was leaving in the room behind her.

–

The following night, Santana seemed to want to test Marley's resilience when, just after midnight, once again the door slid open to reveal some nameless girl attacking Santana's neck while they made their way over to Santana's side of the loft.

Marley threw a glimpse in their direction from the living room couch, and saw Santana staring straight at her, raising her eyebrow. Marley smiled and waved, the rolled her eyes and returned to her book, feeling extraordinarily childish.

Like habit, she reached for her earphones, and buried herself further in her book.

But very much unlike habit, minutes later she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to find the girl putting a jacket on and leaving their place with a sour expression.

Marley didn't see any sign of Santana for the rest of the night, though.

Perhaps, she was getting under Santana's skin after all.

–

Which was why, as Christmas approached, she was pretty bleak that she planned to visit her mother, and wondered whether Santana had anywhere to go, or any plans to do something special at all for the holidays.

Marley had seen no move from Santana's side to transition the apartment in any way during the whole of December so far, and so she just followed Santana's lead and ignored the looming holiday, and worked out her savings to focus on her trip back to Ohio.

Santana has been somewhat more amicable toward Marley for the past week, with small little gestures. She actually passed the salt when Marley asked for it, instead of ignoring her and letting Marley walk all the way to the other side of the counter just to grab it where it stood right next to Santana's hand. She also let Marley choose what to watch on television when one of Santana's true favourite reality shows wasn't on. And she used less hot water than she used to, which infinitely improved Marley's mornings.

Marley didn't understand what Santana was trying to tell her, but she appreciated the sentiment anyway.

After packing on a Saturday morning, Marley came out of her room with her bag in hand, and her heart sank at the expression of fear that briefly took over Santana's features at the sight. She cursed herself for not telling Santana about her plans sooner, but she didn't want to affect the spell of peace that has been cast over them recently.

Santana put the hand towel down and walked over to her from where she was stood in the kitchen. Marley smiled gently.

"I'm going to visit my mom for two weeks," Marley said, and pointedly ignored how Santana's shoulders loosened up at the news. "For Christmas."

"Oh," Santana said softly. "Cool."

Santana nodded and the corners of her mouth turned up – which Marley knew was as far as Santana's smile stretched, these days – before she turned to resume her work in the kitchen.

"Santana," Marley said, stepping closer to Santana, "will you... Are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

Santana just glared at her in reply, and Marley tried not to snicker at the sight. She secretly loved it when Santana faked intimidation like this. Marley had come to recognize when there was a true threat and when there wasn't, and found that most of the time, it fell into the latter category.

"Point taken," Marley said.

She stepped closer to Santana then. She didn't know if it was just how small Santana looked in that moment, or how the light hit her so early in the morning, or that it's been on her mind for the past couple of weeks, but she leant forward and cupped Santana's cheek with her free hand. And then she pressed her lips to Santana's, twice, gently, before softly pulling away.

She stood back and smiled at the utter dumbfounded look on Santana's face.

And then she stepped out of the apartment, hoping that nothing would implode in her absence, and wondering when the last time was that someone just _kissed_ Santana, without motive, just for the sake of kissing.

–

Marley has always been a girl that was very in tune with herself, and she was about a thousand percent sure that she was steadily falling in love with Santana.

Not just out of some pity for the brokenness before her, or with the dream of what Santana could still become, if she pulled herself together, but for all that was in between, simply, for all that Santana was.

For the little moments when Santana would cook her dinner and smile tenderly and proudly as she serves it, and when Santana hummed Nat Cole while she brushed her teeth, and even the times when Marley got so fed up with Santana, irritated with her hollering at stupid contestants on the television when Santana knew good and well they could not hear her.

Yes, Marley was very in tune with herself. And she also had enough intuition to know that she just had to wait.

Just a little while longer.

–

Marley got home to an empty apartment, two weeks later, after New Year's had passed and just before school started up again.

She had about a week left before that, though, and was looking to settle in for the evening and just relax after listening to a baby cry on the plane all the way from Ohio.

As soon as she packed away most of her things and took a blanket over to the couch – revelling in the feeling that overtook her of finally being back at what now felt like her real _home_ – she just fell onto it when the loft door screeched open and Santana crashed inside.

God, she looked _trashed_.

Santana blindly felt her way over to the light, but then frowned when she saw it was already on. Marley stood up to help her and then Santana looked up and stared at her, frowning even more deeply.

Santana stumbled over to her and Marley reached out to steady her, but Santana just wrapped her arms around Marley's neck instead and because Marley didn't anticipate the move, the move sent them both tumbling back onto the couch.

Santana burst out laughing and Marley couldn't help but smile for a second, too, before pulling back and checking that Santana really was okay. And she didn't look it, not even a little bit.

"Santana," Marley said quietly, "everything alright?"

Santana nodded and rested her head on the back of the couch. "You're back," is all she said, and wow, there was a lot of alcohol on her breath.

"Yeah," Marley said.

They stared at each other for a few beats, and then Marley got really worried when she saw some tears form in Santana's eyes.

"Santana?" Marley said, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She reached out and cupped Santana's face, but Santana just shook her head and muttered, "Just a bit drunk, it happens."

"Santana," Marley said softly, because this was such a foreign situation, Santana being so vulnerable, that she didn't quite know what to do with it all.

"I'm sorry," Santana said, and Marley almost visibly jerked at those words coming from Santana Lopez.

"It's okay, Santana, just, come here, okay?" Marley pulled Santana into her side, and then Santana _really_ cried, and Marley just held on for dear life.

When it quieted down to sniffles, Santana pulled back and said, "I'm sorry," again.

Marley shook her head. "It's nothing, I–"

"For everything," Santana interrupted. "Wasn't right to treat you like that, I'm so stupid, I just–"

"Santana, it's fine, let's just get you to bed, okay?" Marley made to stand up, but Santana pressed her back down.

"Just lemme say som'ing," Santana said, looking at Marley as seriously as she could in her state. "I'm not like you all, the Rachels and Kurts and Brittanys and Marleys, who come here and have the talent and get it all."

Santana sighed and played with Marley's fingers, then, and Marley frowned, wondering what Santana was on about.

"I work at a fucking bar, and also as a fucking cage dancer, for three fucking years, and that's the most I've been able to do in my sorry-ass move to this city," Santana said, then rubbed at her eyes, and Marley knew there was another onslaught of tears coming. "I'm _nothing_, now, and seeing you here all day like Rachel and Kurt, all making your dreams come true and being everything I wanted just makes me so fucking angry that I want to punch something, but then, you're also just, so... And I'm just, I'm nothing, Marley. Nothing."

Santana seemed to sober up, then, and muttered a final, "Just don't understand why you care," under her breath, and Marley could feel a little part of her heart breaking.

Marley stood up and watched as Santana just sat on the couch, staring at nothing, looking absolutely spent. She reached down and picked Santana up, supporting her while walking over to Marley's room.

She helped Santana under the covers and climbed in behind her, holding Santana close and rubbing a hand over Santana's arm.

Words were feeble things, she thought, and so she just held Santana tighter, whispering, "You're not nothing," as Santana slackened against her.

She hoped that, even if Santana didn't believe it, she could at least _feel_ it.

–

It happened in stages.

Like a flower in bloom, Santana continued opening herself up to Marley, fraction by fraction, and Marley was astounded by the beauty that was held inside, hidden away this entire time.

Santana just had so much to give to the world, yet, Marley believed that with all her heart, and she knew she would help Santana in any way she could to believe it as well.

There was this project, at school, where Marley's production class had to put together a demo using any resources they could find of their own volition, and she had just the contender to serve as the voice.

It wasn't much, but seeing Santana in the studio, and in the days after, smiling a bit more, talking a bit more, _being_ a bit more – it was all Santana needed, Marley realized, that first little push.

It was a start, Marley thought, and maybe things were only getting better, after all. It was something, where there was always nothing, and Marley reveled in how close she was growing to Santana, day by day, bringing about a feeling of completion, satisfaction, resolution.

It was a start, when Santana started looking at options, looking at schools, talking to her parents again, drinking less, tried a bit harder than normally, started over – it was like Marley could see the ambition recolouring Santana's persona, one day at a time.

And when Santana leaned up and kissed Marley slowly, one evening, months later, when Marley told her how proud she was of her? Well.

It was a start.


End file.
